


The Child in the Tower

by CheyanneChika



Series: Baby Yoda in The Witcher [1]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV), The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Implied Relationships, M/M, Magic, Rescue Missions, Silly, The Force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:00:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22351462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheyanneChika/pseuds/CheyanneChika
Summary: Geralt has to rescue a mysterious being locked in a tower for forty years.
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Baby Yoda in The Witcher [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1608955
Comments: 17
Kudos: 153





	The Child in the Tower

**Author's Note:**

> My friend, who is also writing a fic like this, mentioned it and I was writing ten seconds later.

“Why are we going on a rescue mission?”

Jaskier got no answer as Geralt was pointedly silent.

“It’s just…y’know, you’re usually more…stab, stab, kill or at the very least horribly mutilate.”

“You’re the one that will need saving if you don’t shut up.”

There was blessed silence for about three minutes.

“Who are we saving again?”

Geralt tightened his grip on Roach’s reins. Never mind it was a perfectly good question. Whoever it was, his client claimed, had been trapped in a tower for at least forty years and had been the size of a baby when they were brought in past him. He had no idea what had become of the child; he’d been paid not to ask questions and he never went to their space, nor heard any sound, in all the days he had guarded the base of the tower but now he was retired and had allowed guilt to gnaw at him. The tower had always felt strange to him and he guessed magic was at play, so why not ask a witcher to do the job.

The silence drew out and Jaskier gave up, pulling free his lute without breaking stride, a habit he’d picked up as Geralt would absolutely not wait for him, and started to pluck strings aimlessly.

Then he paused. “If you start rescuing people, I’ll have to restructure my songs. You won’t just be a friend of humanity you’ll be a savior of humanity as well.”

Geralt tuned him out.

…

The tower was in the middle of nowhere.

Which was, granted, an odd place for a tower.

But the place stank of magic so maybe not.

At nightfall, Geralt strapped on his steel sword, ascertained the number of guards (two on the door, six more inside, all human save for a scent he did not recognize at all, eliminating the possibility that the captive was human), and left Roach with Jaskier to approach the tower. 

The guards were dealt with in seconds. Jaskier got bored and followed, discreetly. Then less so as the unconscious guards’ number grew. Finding eight bodies before hitting the stairs that wound around the tower, Jaskier peered up to see Geralt nearly at the top with no one else to fight.

“Why’d he need a witcher for this?” Jaskier called up, his voice echoing.

Geralt didn’t answer. He’d reached the landing at the top and tested the door. It was unlocked so he opened it, sword drawn. Inside was a large, single room that was bare save for a pile of rumpled bedding in a corner and an empty food trough.

When his eyes found nothing living, he inhaled, searching for that strange smell.

It was coming from his feet. His gaze snapped down. A green creature, no more than a foot tall, with pointed ears and luminous black eyes with no sclera stared up at him. It was dressed in a bit of heavy, brown cloth that gave it the look of a tiny monk. It stretched out a claw-tipped hand with only three fingers and Geralt jerked back as magic began to radiate.

But the magic didn’t feel bad. It was…testing? He didn’t know.

Yennefer maybe. She might know. He reached down and picked up the creature. It blinked slowly at him.

“I am not walking up all those stairs to drag your lovely bottom out of here if you die up there!” Jaskier’s voice echoed up to him.

Attention caught, the child, and it had to be because…because it…he, Geralt wasn’t sure but, regardless, the magic was raw and untrained and childlike, forty years up here or no.

The child grabbed his hair and pulled slightly, wrapping his fingers in the strands. Geralt grunted and went into the room for the bedding and then left.

Jaskier was, in fact, halfway up the stairs. “Oh good,” his voice was breathy, “I’ll just…” Without finishing, he spun on his heel and went back downstairs.

By the time Geralt joined him, Jaskier was fine. He’d probably been putting on a show anyway. “Did you rescue…” He trailed off at those black eyes meeting his. “You’ve got to be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen!” he cried, invading Geralt’s space to peer closely at the kid. Geralt grunted warningly but Jaskier ignored it, smiling brightly until the child grinned back, showing off tiny blunt teeth. Jaskier laughed and took the child. “I thought he said it was up there for forty years.”

“Magic,” was the retort.

Jaskier shook his head and brought the tiny being to eye level. “Magic, of course, how silly of me. Tell me, my pet, will you grow into a giant beastie once we leave the tower?”

The child cocked his head to the side and Jaskier replayed what he’d just said. He looked to the witcher. “Is that liable to happen?”

“Does it matter?” After all, the client wanted the child free, he didn’t say he wanted whoever was up there brought to him. If he turned into a monster well…

Jaskier grimaced and handed the child back before heading out to the cool, night air.

Geralt also stepped out, child in hand. When he didn’t do anything other than pull on the witcher’s hair again, Jaskier relaxed, also tugged on a lock and took him back. Geralt grunted.

…

Back in the village, there was…a lot of staring. Their client also stared a lot. He paid but said he didn’t know what he would do with it.

Magic meant consulting a proper witch, which meant the Brotherhood or Yennefer. Jaskier grumbled but, now that he had someone to entertain and sing to, he was happier and Geralt didn't mind that at all. “Guess it’s still friend of humanity since you’re not exactly human, are you? No, no you aren’t,” he cooed as they headed out of town.


End file.
